It's happening! Operation Let's Wreck Some Yellow House Shit Up is finally happening! I'd like to give a big shout-out to that moment when you move your couch for the first time in like, two years and are confronted with all your failings as an adult human being. Dismantling and moving our bed yielded a similar lint/cat toy/string-cheese-wrapper bounty, but also $20! We're rich! And also kind of vile. Let's run for Senator. Anyway, it's very bangy and screechy here today and the smoke alarms keep going off, much to Poppy's dismay. We are living in the basement for the rest of the week with a lot of furniture and closet contents. I was planning to go work from a Starbucks or something but forgot to retrieve any pants from upstairs (specifically, they are all piled up in the tub in the master bathroom) before the work crew arrived. So I suppose I am trapped down here for today until they leave. But hey! No pants! Not a bad deal. Continue reading

A continuation. 1,498) IKE'S FRONT TOOTH I AM NOT EVEN JOKING. Ike came home from school soooooo excited (and sooooooooo adorably gap-toothed) yesterday, because his top front tooth fell out on the bus. He'd been waiting to lose that tooth for what felt like ages. "I look like a REAL first-grader now!" he announced proudly. And then he accidentally dropped the tooth on the kitchen floor. And then Poppy ate it. What. The. Fuck. Dog. One gulp, and it was gone, like so many dropped Cheerios before it. Ike burst into tears. "BAD DOG, Poppy!" he wailed, as we all rushed to console him. "We'll write the Tooth Fairy a letter!" Ezra proposed, ever the problem solver. "I lost a tooth in the OCEAN once." Noah reminded him. "And the Tooth Fairy still came! I got like $20!" (Thankfully this infamous conversation did not repeat itself.) Indeed, the Tooth Fairy was quite sympathetic to Ike's letter and explanation of "MY DOG ATE MY TOOTH" and left him five whole dollars. He rubbed Poppy's belly this morning before school and told her he forgave her and was sorry for calling her bad (since you can literally see her spirit collapse and... Continue reading

This post is sponsored by RetailMeNot. So this is happening. Starting next week, the carpet is getting ripped up and hardwoods are going down, and all our furniture is going...I don't even know where yet. Crammed into the garage and a hallway. Maybe the bathtubs. We'll be living in the basement with a lot of boxes and some very confused dogs. While it will be SO NICE to have the project done in time for the holidays, it's...um, not exactly convenient timing in the meantime. There will be no Christmas tree until the floors are done, and our holiday shopping budget is wafer thin. The kids aren't really asking for much, thank goodness, and as long as I agreed that the Charlie Brown Christmas tree and a few other decorations could come out of storage, they seem satisfied. (I set up a holiday-themed reading nook in place of the real tree, which has gone over really well. Ike has of course been wearing Christmas jammies since June.) (Stockings for Hobbes the Tiger and Tahu the Bioncle, naturally.) (Oh yay this guy again. I can't wait to forget to move him and bolt awake every night at 2 a.m., cursing the... Continue reading

Thank you so much to everybody who commented/emailed/messaged/otherwise-reached-out after Friday's post. Y'all are still way too nice to me, especialy after way (way, WAY) too many years of oversharing and general idioting out here. Two things I've learned since then: 1) Ativan is like an almost-instant, big ol' OFF switch for my anxiety. Glorious. 2) Switching the anxiety off, however, basically cedes full control to the depression, which is unfortunately much worse than I realized. Turns out anxiety, while brain- and breath-rattlingly awful, has been the main thing powering the hamster wheel lately. Once it's gone, the relief of "I'm not going to have a panic attack!" is quickly replaced with "I'm going to melt into my bed like a pile of greyish-blah goo and just stare at the ceiling while my yoga pants slowly fuse to my skin!" Not so glorious. So looks like I have a bit more work to do in the medication/brain chemistry department. And I will do that work, and all the work, and am very very grateful and hashtag-blessed for all the support I have from family, friends, Internetters, and of course, the therapeutic assist from this pack of floofballs: Continue reading

Every day this week I've opened up a New Post and stared at its usually inviting blankness. Type something, it says to me. Be funny! Make jokes! Get on with your weird run-on-sentences-all-in-caps-lock self! Hell, even boring is probably fine, just TYPE. SOMETHING. I still don't have any of that, Internet. I do have a confession, though. I'm not doing so great. I mean, I AM doing great in all the ways that matter -- healthy, thriving kids, excellent job(s) with the perfect work-at-home setup, a pile of happy-making pets, hot husband who spoils me rotten, etc. All of which add up to me berating the hell out of myself for still, regardless, in spite of it all, not doing so great. It's no secret that I've struggled with anxiety (that ebbs and flows in terms of its severity and sources) and depression on and off for a lot of my life, and over the past year I've struggled more and more to get it back under control. The past couple months have been about as bad as it gets, no matter what I've tried. I got a SAD lamp. I got a bike and a personal trainer. I take... Continue reading

In exactly one month from today, I will be turning 40 years old. I suppose I should Feel Something About That, but...not really? I'm more stunned by the realization that I'm only 10 years away from being 50 years old, at which point I can FINALLY fulfill my life-long dream of living full-time as Molly Shannon's SNL character. Better get working on those high kicks! (Although I have no intention of shying away from my age, I do admit I am intrigued by a fellow-39-going-on-40 friend's plan to say he's "39 Part II" and then "39 Part III," then end the trilogy by turning 42, at which point he can literally be the answer to Life, the Universe and Everything. That's a solid plan and I applaud it.) I really enjoyed my 30s though, and all the growing/evolving as a person mixed with a solid appreciation for no longer giving a fuck. I'm hoping that trend continues and I can put off being too Set In My Ways for awhile longer. (Unless, of course, My Ways involve lots of insane hats, occasional day drinking. fighting the patriarchy from a tricked-out motorized scooter, and always tipping the waitstaff well.) THAT SAID,... Continue reading

9 a.m.: I wonder how long I can stay in bed and pretend this isn't happening. 9:15: GET UP GET UP GET UP 10:00: Time To Fuss Over Flower Arrangements! 10:30: It's probably too early to put out chips and stuff, right? 10:35: (Realizes Jason bought Cheetos) 10:40 - noon: (Stress-eats Cheetos) 12:01 p.m.: Rearrange All The Flower Arrangements! 12:30: Ike has announced his intention to take a rolling Friendsgiving attendance/headcount on Post-It Notes. It's good to have a purpose. 1:00: OMG no one is coming 1:45: OMG everyone is coming 1:47: Ike has re-made the Friendsgiving banner. 2:00 - who even can remember: HI HI HI HI HI HI I LIKE EVERYBODY HERE SO MUCH 2:05: Where is my wine glass? 2:30: Oh, there it is. 2:35: We aren't going to have enough food. 3:00: Holy shit there is so much food. 3:02: WTF lost my wine glass again. 3:15: One turkey down, two more to go. 3:45: I should not have filled up on Cheetos. 4:00: Ike has redecorated the bar area. 4:15: Guess I'll just get a new wine glass? Is that allowed? 4:16: Oh right. This is my house. 4:30: Deep-fried turkey is the best turkey,... Continue reading

Me, all year: Oh yeah. we host a big Friendsgiving thing the Saturday before Thanksgiving. It's really fun. You should come next time! Me, the week of Friendsgiving: GAH GAH GAAAAAAH WHY DO WE DO THIS GAH GAH AHHAGS GAHAHAGA JPFNZCMZXC,M.CZXLDFJD We're up to three turkeys this year. One roasted, one deep-fried and now, one smoked. Jason is making the stuffing, I'm doing boozy cranberry sauce and gougeres. Ezra is handling the sweet potatoes and the other two are whining about all the Doritos and Capri Suns that I've told them they aren't allowed to have yet. I need to figure out the logistics of two pies and a cheesecake sitting in our freezer and of course, clean all the things and declutter all the surfaces. Last week my therapist (BOOM) (THAT HAPPENED) asked me if there was anything in particular stressing me out about the party and I said, "the stupid fucking bookcase in the living room." So, back up. We impulse-bought an Ikea bookcase instead of a proper TV stand/entertainment unit right after we moved in and almost immediately regretted it. It was too big and didn't really go with anything else in the room. But we never... Continue reading

Hello! It's been a bit. I have been quite the diligent little worker bee this past week, as one of my part-time freelancing clients suddenly morphed into a full-time 40+ hours stress monster. On the one hand, it always feels good to be extra productive (and hey, I'm paid hourly so MAKE IT RAIN OVERTIME), but on the other hand, weeks like that always serve as a reminder that I am so wired for freelancing and much prefer jumping from project to project throughout the day. (I didn't have any time to write about poop or in-laws all week! ) Otherwise my brain goes numb and I sort of slither off my chair from the mental exhaustion of Actual Grown-up Human Work at the end of the day. I am such a baby. They should probably not be feeding me so much coffee. Anyway, things are much calmer this week, except that we're hosting Friendsgiving this weekend and my anxiety is up to ELEVENSIES because either no one will come and it will be a disaster, or everyone will come and it will be a disaster. There is no in-between, obviously, also we didn't get the hardwood floor project started... Continue reading

This week is garbage. Everything is garbage. Somebody, anybody, please step away from you Halloween candy wrapper nest and clean up all this garbage! Speaking of Halloween, though: Ike is like, okay that's done, let's break out the Christmas jammies, spike up our hairz and DANCE. This has been your complimentary Tuesday dose of Not Garbage. If anyone needs me, I'll be in the tub. I DIDN'T ACTUALLY MEAN THAT, YOU TWO. LEAVE ME ALONE. Continue reading

This post is sponsored by Blue Apron. So we've been Blue Apron members for...wow, three full years now, officially. Every Monday, two boxes show up on our doorstep. (We find that two boxes of the 2-person plan feeds our 5-person family perfectly, often with leftovers. Blue Apron also has a 4-person family plan but we found the portions a touch smaller and the meals more kid-friendly than our kids really need. YMMV.) We unload the ingredients, pull out the recipe cards, map out when we'll make what, and bam. Our dinner menu planning and shopping is done for the week, in less than 10 minutes. We have tried other meal delivery services in that time, but have always returned to Blue Apron time and time again. Some are just too expensive and/or the prices advertised don't include the shipping costs (tricksy hobbits). Others consistently sent us rotten ingredients and reaching customer service was a labyrinth of response-less frustration. (BA lets me report missing or damaged ingredients directly from their app, and I always hear back with an account credit within a day. Their customer service is fabulous.) Another one promised super fast, zero-prep meals but relied heavily on processed foods... Continue reading

When we last checked in on Ezra's beloved Hobbes, he was not doing so great. SHOCKINGLY, his condition has not improved over time. He is worn and threadbare, his body covered in holes and his painted eyeballs faded into plain white plastic cataracts. Considering he's like, a 25-cent toy from a Dave & Buster's claw machine that Ezra takes everywhere, it's probably a miracle he's held on for this long. But still, I asked if anyone knew where I could procure a replacement Hobbes-like tiger. Well look what just showed up, right in time to go trick-or-treating tonight with Calvinz and his red wagon: Everybody say hi to Hobbes II! Thank you so so SO MUCH to reader Michelle for kindly and generously donating her time and mad sewing skills to make this adorable Hobbes for Ezra. (WHO IS SO THRILLED TWO HOBBES THAT'S TWICE AS MANY HOBBES GUYS!) He carefully packed him in his backpack last night for today's school parade, then snuck back downstairs to retrieve him because "Hobbes I is having trouble sleeping without his buddy." (Also last night: "Hobbes I is staying home tomorrow because he says he's too old for parades.") (Also this morning: I... Continue reading

Miss Poppy started obedience/doggy manners training a couple weeks ago, and already she's well on her way to being the valedictorian of Dog School, and only SORT OF because there's only one other dog in the class. Honestly, Beau probably needs training more, but it was part of our adoption agreement with Poppy's rescue because she was still a puppy. (We had to pay an additional $50 deposit that we get back once she's completed a properly certified/acceptable training program.) She's a good girl but a big strong girl who already has 20 pounds on Ike and can knock him flat with an overly-excited greeting. Beau gets a free pass on those same not-great behaviors because he's so small. He pulls on the leash during walks but like, nice try, pipsqueak, behold my SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH. Poppy sees a squirrel and I'm like, PLEASE CHILD I HAVE A WEAK ELBOW NOOOOOOO. Likewise, Beau jumps up on people and it's like, "Awwww, look at the little Ewok Toto standing up on his hind legs and bouncing around like a coked-up kangaroo! That's so adorable!" Poppy does the same thing and I end up looking like this: None of it's aggressive, of course.... Continue reading

This post is sponsored by thredUP. Stuff Poppy Ate, an Addendum: 21) Amy's favorite jacket. RIP, favorite jacket. This jacket was a Target find -- one of those great "I want something exactly like this but do not want to put any effort whatsoever into shopping for something like this" items you randomly spot on a rack on your way to pick up some paper towels. It was perfect. I wore it constantly in the fall and last spring, dressed up, dressed down, you name it. I LOVED this jacket. (Good thing I also really, really love that dog.) My first instinct when seeing the dog-shredded sleeve was to check and see if Target still sold it. And indeed, they do. For $40. I did not remember paying $40. And I did not particularly feel like paying $40 all over, again. Spending another $40 would mean that technically, I spent $80 on a faux leather moto jacket from Target. (Don't try to argue with my brain logic here. It has very specific views about how money works.) Thankfully, thredUP to the rescue. (thredUP, in case you haven't checked it out yet, is the largest online resale shop where you can... Continue reading

Our iron broke yesterday morning. Jason discovered this when he went to iron Ezra's shirt for picture day (which woowowowowowwww tells you everything you need to know about Him As A Dad vs. Me As A Mom), and it wouldn't turn on or heat up or anything. Good riddance. I hated that iron, as the steam setting never worked properly and always just dripped puddles of lukewarm water all over my clothes. Ten years, at least, I've hated that goddamn iron. Should I have just replaced it at some point? Of course! But then 1) that's one less thing in my life to bitch about, and bitching gives me life, and 2) come on. Does anybody remember the plastic wrap? I used that wretched, useless plastic wrap down to the last wretched, useless inch. Of course I'm not replacing a terrible iron. So I ordered a new iron. And was delighted to realize that I could get one delivered the same day, for FREE. Like, I sat there for multiple minutes contemplating this logistical and technological marvel. What a time to be alive, when irons will magically show up at your door mere hours after your old one gives up... Continue reading

As I mentioned in Monday's post, we spent Ezra's birthday weekend in the Poconos, at the super-family-and-kid-friendly Woodloch resort. (This is not a sponsored post. I was invited as a travel writer for AlphaMom, where a proper review-type post will appear soon. Woodloch comped our room and meals, but beyond that I'm not being paid for this post, or nor am I obligated to post about the trip at all. But like I would EVER pass up a chance to bore y'all with a bunch of my vacation photos, lololol.) (I bet they knew that, too.) ANYWAY, the boys had a ton of fun. There were: Bumper cars! (Not pictured, me, who went on them one whole time!) Go-karts! (Not pictured, Ike, who was like naaaahhhhhh don't think so.) (This was more his speed.) An indoor pool! And hot tub! And waterslide! And Halloween costumes, characters and bonus treat-or-treating! (Ezra went as Calvin [and Hobbes], Ike as Woody and Not-Pictured-Noah was Marty McFly again.) (And yes, that last one is indeed David! S! Pumpkins!) A petting zoo, pumpkin patch and painting... And ham. So much ham. (That was us "practicing" our scared faces just before I took him on his... Continue reading

When someone else gets hurt -- be it a skinned knee or bruised feelings -- Ezra feels it. And I mean feels it, physically, to the point of tears. He then rushes to fix things, to make things feel better. Ice packs, Band-Aids, some candy, a dollar, a promise to always be your friend. His best friend in the entire world is a little girl who lives up the street. We took a trip to the Poconos this weekend for his birthday and he spent almost all of his birthday money to buy her something from the gift shop. He likes buying presents for people. "I feel their happy," he says. One time she went away and brought him back a snow globe. He accidentally dropped it on the bus and it broke. His heart shattered right along with it. "It was so beautiful," he wept into my shoulder. He's stopped ordering off the children's menu (unless there are corn dogs; he really loves corn dogs) because he wants to eat things that look more like what he sees on cooking shows. (Obviously he's a big Masterchef Junior fan.) Helping with dinner isn't enough anymore, he wants to makes things... Continue reading

*Please note that in today's performance of DIY, the role of "Yourself" will be played by "Your Husband" because Yourself has had bronchitis for over a week now and feels like shit, but really, You know Yourself would've come up with some other excuse anyway. So when we last left off with the Saga of the Bathroom That Absolutely No One Cares About Except Me, Deeply, this was the state of things: (A reminder that all this chaos was self-inflicted fallout from a simple leak in the shower door. We were completely fine with this basic-ass, late-90s bathroom until a new shower door turned into a new shower and ZOMG, the new shower is so nice! And now everything else in the room looks like hot garbage! Like me, in every group photo ever. I feel you, basic-ass bathroom.) We forgot to take any official "before" photos, so here is a suspiciously elongated one from our house's real estate listing: (Oh yeah, sure, you literally keep nothing on your sink counter except a jar of decorative seashells and I totally didn't unplug our toothbrushes and dump them in the next room along with the half-empty handsoap and my hairspray for... Continue reading

Yesterday morning I dropped Noah off at his school and watched him head inside, wheeling a suitcase behind him. He's off on a two-day, two-night field trip to an outdoor adventure camp by the Chesapeake Bay with his classmates. All 300 of them. Who decided all these tiny babies were suddenly ready for this shit? Who decided the grownups were? It was nice to see that most sixth graders are still willing to publicly hug and kiss their parents goodbye, and that this was a Big Deal for plenty of other families -- some cars were packed with moms and dads and grandparents and siblings to wave off their newly official Super Big Kid Who Takes Suitcases Overnight Now. Other kids were clearly sleepaway camp veterans, bouncing out of cars with an overstuffed duffel bag because maybe they have a better understanding of what "several changes of inner and outer clothing" actually looks like for two days at one of these places -- I just kept adding stuff until there wasn't anymore room for stuff. What if his sweatshirt gets muddy? What if all his socks get wet? ("It'll dry! It'll be fine!") Electronics of any kind were strictly prohibited,... Continue reading

(I always feel the need to hedge Posts Like This [mundane, complain-y, privileged AF] during Times Like These [seriously, how many national emergencies/tragedies/horrors do we have deal with right now?] and be like: I know. I know! I'm really upset and distressed about it all too in real life. But here is where I come to try and be kind of funny on the Internet. So Imma do that. Hugs for everybody.) Once upon a time, several blog posts ago, I revealed the secret shame of the demogorgon shower sludge, and our less-than-super-adult approach to doing anything about it. (At least anything that would cost us more than a tube of Denial Caulk.) But finally we had a plan and an contractor and things started happening: Demolish-y things! Gateway to the demonscape things! We decided to bump the shower out to the edge of the wall and tile up to the ceiling, and replace the shower basin with a mosaic tile floor. We had three and half boxes of tile leftover from our kitchen/foyer remodel, which wasn't going to be quite enough. Which at first was a big old ARGH because we'd bought discontinued tile (discounted to only $1.50 a... Continue reading

If you ask him how middle school is going, he'll say: "It's fine. It's long." And yet he still auditioned for (and was accepted into) the afterschool jazz ensemble, which he says "flies by so fast" because he likes the "jazzy music" and because his saxophone "is like, the main character of jazz." He's tall and lanky and huge and handsome and at least a couple girls have noticed, but he's not interested, no, ew, stop. (But don't you dare say things like girls can't game or code or use "throw/play/scream like a girl" as an insult because you will get an earful.) The kid who couldn't stand Halloween is now begging to go on ghost tours and jump-scare haunts. Next week he's going away on a two-night, outdoor education field trip with his class and I'm the only one who's even remotely stressed about it. "It'll be fun. All my friends are going." He still asked for a Lego set for his birthday, but probably mostly because he hasn't realized he can ask for gift cards to Steam yet. The Lego obsession is slowly giving way to video games and drawing comics and YouTube, though he still likes to... Continue reading

I've been on a bit of a purge-and-organize closet bender around the house lately -- what most people would probably consider "spring cleaning" except it's now September because I'm not a slave to your calendars, man. This place has a legitimately amazing number of closets and built-in storage options, but of course the downsides to all that storage means you can simply wall up all your crap for years, out of sight and mind like the Tell-Tale Heart, until one day you open a door and BLAM. You are dead under a pile of regifting candles and suitcases and board games nobody likes. So I've been waging the War on Crap one closet at a time. Lesser victories (aka ones I forgot to take a "before" photo of, like wow it's almost like I've lost the compulsion to share every minute of my day with the Internet or something) include the boys' bookshelves and a linen closet: (Note that I separated and organized sheets by SIZE! And added corresponding labels to the shelves! And made SEVERAL attempts at properly folding the fitted sheets as per YouTube demo instructions before saying fuck this and balling them up into a semi-flat wad... Continue reading

Hello! And welcome to my home. Please ignore the demonic horror-movie sludge growing through the wall in the bathroom. It's not yet fully sentient so you should be okay. So siggggghhhhh and bleeeeeearrrrgh and welcome to homeownership. The shower door in the master bathroom started leaking over the summer and like good responsible adults we immediately did the following: 1) Ignore it. 2) Google it. 3) Caulk it. Just...caulk the shit out of it. 4) Watch it. 5) It's getting worse, isn't it? 6) Like a lot worse. 7) Honey, I don't think the caulk did the trick. 8) MOAR CAULK!!1! 9) Ignore it some more. 10) ALL RIGHT FINE WALL, YOU WIN. We're about 90% sure the leak is limited to the shower door frame (and there's no mold, for the record, just mildew and run-of-the-mill water damage that hasn't spread beyond that spot). But since there's really no way to know for sure without ripping out all the drywall and wall tile (and since replacing the door isn't exactly cheap on its own and wow, that would suck to replace it and then be all, OH LOOK THE DEMON SLUDGE IS BACK), we are redoing the whole shower.... Continue reading

Ike had his weight check and successfully gained a pound. Not a huge amount, but enough to satisfy his pediatrician for now. He also shot up ANOTHER inch in height, so I think we have our answer as to where his body prefers to utilize it's calories: Towards total devotion to the fine art of outgrowing all his damn clothes. Meanwhile, I gained like five pounds during the same time period, as the switch to whole milk string cheese did nothing to impact my personal string cheese consumption. Luckily! I am healed enough to ride my bike every day again! Which was a thing that started happening this summer, much to my own lazy ass' surprise. And it was one of the first things I whined about after breaking my elbow, perhaps because I knew that I'd prove perfectly capable of eating string cheese left handed. I am staying off hills and could probably get smoked by a toddler on training wheels, but still. I am outside doing a thing! Back in the realm of the Inside Kids, Ezra came home from school last week and announced that he was taking up the violin, as it has been his life... Continue reading